ve you seen him?"

"Yes, once or twice. I've heard that he was very well liked when he left
St. Eustace last year. I dare say he has turned over a new leaf since
his father died."

"Indeed? I hadn't heard of that."

"West heard it. He died last spring, and left Cloud pretty near
penniless, they say. I have an idea that he has taken a brace and is
studying more than he used to."

"The chap has plenty of good qualities, I suppose. We all have our bad
ones, you know. Perhaps it only needed some misfortune to wake up the
lad's better nature. They say virtue thrives best on homely fare, and,
like lots of other proverbs, I guess it's sometimes true."

Then Remsen told of his visit to Hillton a few weeks previous. The
Eleven this year was in pretty good shape, he thought; Greene, an upper
middle man, was captain; they expected to have an easy time with St.
Eustace, who was popularly supposed to be in a bad way for veteran
players. That same Greene was winning the golf tournament when he was
there, Remsen continued, and the golf club was in better shape than ever
before, thanks to the hard work of West, Whipple, Blair, and a few
others in building it up.

The two friends reached the house, and Remsen led the way into his room,
and set about unpacking his things. Joel took up a position on the bed
and gave excellent advice as to the disposal of everything from a pair
of stockings to a typewriter.

"It's a strange fact," said Remsen as he thrust a suit of pajamas under
the pillow, "that Outfield West is missed at Hillton more than any
fellow who has graduated from there for several years past. Perhaps I
don't mean exactly strange, either, for of course he's a fellow that
every one naturally likes. What I do mean is that one would naturally
suppose fellows like Blair or Whipple would leave the most regrets
behind them, for Blair was generally conceded to be the most popular
fellow in school the last two years of his stay, and Whipple was surely
running him a close second. And certainly their memories are still
green. But everywhere I went it was: 'Have you heard from Outfield
West?' 'How's West getting on at college?' And strange to say, such
inquiries were not confined to the fellows alone. Professor Wheeler
asked after West particularly, and so did Briggs, and several others of
the faculty; and Mrs. Cowles as well.

"But you are still the hero there, March. The classic history of Hillton
still recounts the prowess of o